I decided to attend school out of state. I had lived in my hometown all my life; the furthest I had been was my grandma’s down the street. I knew the roads like the back of my hand. Growing up, my life was bordered by the same people living the same experiences. By my senior year of high school, there was an itch to try something new. Something drew me to the small school in the Bronx, and I am forever grateful that it did.
Leaving behind everything I had ever known, my dad drove me across the country to the city of New York. I had no idea what I was getting into. Not only is college itself such a developmental time, but being so far away from home made it hit harder. Watching my dad drive away, I realized there was no going back. I hated it. The beginning of my freshman year was spent calling my mom while sobbing and walking around Van Cortlandt Park. It took me a while to gain my bearings and appreciate the change. I did not see it at the time (too busy crying), but I realized that even though I am so far from home, there are parts of home everywhere—parts I would never have discovered without going to this school.
Being away from home allowed me to develop into a person I am proud of. The uncomfortable settings transpired into fleeting moments I will always be thankful for. I was not raised with religion, but I found religion in the laughter with my roommate. Going to school out of state helped me see that.
New York City became a second home because of the trials it put me through. I am so proud and will always be thankful for it. The love I have stumbled upon at this small school has healed me like no other. It’s allowed me to grow and taught me how to foster important relationships. Your life has just begun, and there is no telling what direction it will take. Starting school at Manhattan College, I was filling out transfer applications. Now I am crying just thinking about leaving. My freshman year was like no other, and I am so happy with how it turned out.